once upon a time
by sanskrits
Summary: the blond haired boy is veritably the most cheerful and compassionate person you will ever meet. he wears his heart on his sleeve. emotions are his strength. and then he learns his lesson / draco malfoy and the intricacies of feelings.


The blond haired boy is seven.

And he is veritably the most cheerful and compassionate person you will ever meet. His eyes of silver sparkle and he's got the warmest smile you will ever see.

"Draco," his mother always chides, "you've got to stop being so _emotional_."

"But mummy!" he exclaims, affronted. "Emotions don't like to be bottled up. Because then they spill over to the surface. And it's easier to talk about it because who knows? Someone might understand _exactly_ what I'm feeling," he continues in a matter-of-fact tone.

His mother shakes her head at him and ruffles his hair affectionately, though the boy senses a warning gesture behind it. "Someday you will learn," she states. Surely—as if he _will_ learn, not as if he _might_ learn. "Emotions are trouble, my darling, and you don't need any trouble."

Draco openly contradicts her. "I don't think so. Feelings can be your strength."

His mother gives him a pitying sort of look filled with that surety as if she knows he will figure it out the hard way, because he is a stubborn child.

He's a bright little boy though a little too proud of his family. But, as he always tells himself, family always has your back. And this bright little boy knows his mother's surety has never failed in its accuracy.

It scares him a little but he is a proud little blond seven-year-old boy and he's got more to worry about than a lingering doubt which has barely even passed in his cloud of thoughts.

⁂⁂⁂

When the blond boy meets the brunette girl his first bout of accidental magic occurs. Draco is a "late bloomer" as often called by his father, because "there's no possibility that _I_ have helped birth a _Squib_." He is still seven.

He's in the backyard of the Manor, sitting on the little swing and swaying his legs gracefully like a pendulum, and the girl is walking along the sidewalk. She notices the boy and smiles, waving. Draco smiles just as brightly and waves back.

But the girl notices that something is _off_ about this mysterious blond boy because she sees the chains of the swing untangle themselves and levitate— actually _levitate_ —with his movement.  
The girl is one of science and things she can believe in and explain and this is not one of those things. So her pleasantness becomes quite disbelieving and repugnant and—she believes she needs to redeem herself and teach this boy a lesson, because _who in their right mind plays a trick of the light like that_?

She flips her straight, brown locks, and shrieks, " _FREAK_! What—what are you even doing, that's so _freaky_ , stop that!"

She is a self-important feeling little girl and when she notices the blond looks utterly nonplussed she demands, "You stop that right now—stop it stop it stop it—get the freakiness away!"

The blond boy stops his pleasant swaying and the look of unmistakable hurt flashes across his face before it is replaced quickly by an emotionless expression. It is not even the usual Malfoy mask of cool indifference—it is just neutral, and unfeeling. He is unforgiving.

She hops away indignantly and Draco sits there, knowing that this is what his mum meant. Emotions are not strength. They are weakness. He doesn't even know the girl, but the words _freak_ ring in his mind. It stings, and badly.

Because he is so emotional. Because he left his heart on his sleeve.

 _Emotions are trouble, my darling_.

⁂⁂⁂

The boy was the kindest soul, the most compassionate, with that warm smile and those kind eyes that crinkled in the soft way when he smiled and the graceful features that lit up when he was happy.

Today, he is no longer a boy. Today he sits in a dingy bathroom stall when he really should be going to the Great Hall in a few minutes to eat. Today, he contemplates what is to come.

And all that is left of the blond haired boy and his warm smile full of joy are some cold gray eyes and a skull with a snake protruding from its menacing jaws, bright black and emblazoned proudly on his forearm.

 **A/N: this is my favorite thing ever, literally my favorite story to write. i got the idea for the girl from the dursleys. my mind was just like "wait what if draco malfoy was really nice but then he goes through something that makes him the character we know today?"**

 **sorry for not posting, life has just been really hectic in general and i just haven't had the time to write.**

 **-readersarethebestwriters**


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